Catalyst for Peace (formerly Catalyst Peacebuilding)

The stars are out tonight. The rain has blocked the night sky for the last week—and I had forgotten how breathtaking the African sky is. Today I had time to pause and think. We have seen, heard, experienced so much in the last week—sometimes it flies past and we forget to reflect, decompress, let the experience enter deep in the heart.

From poda-podas and street signs, to sitting—sweat streaming down our backs—in a tight room with a former girl soldier, to walking through the special court with those working on issues of transitional justice, to learning Krio words—the week has indeed been full. I still sit in awe of those we have spoken with. The young girl I met a few days ago who had been taken at the age of 9 into the bush with the RUF. She was made a wife—repeatedly gang raped for 11 years. I have heard stories of women who were raped so brutally that they can no longer control their own bowels—they live, everyday, with the pain of being powerless as their feces drip uncontrollably from their torn bodies. I heard a former child combatant talk about taking a head and placing it on a stick to scare the next villages in order to get food. And other stories—stories that make the hairs on my neck stand up, as the chills ripple through my body.

I have looked into the beautiful faces of the young people we have met with, though they are my peers, their eyes show the age of my great grandparents. Their childhoods were ripped from them.

And somewhere in the midst of all the devastating stories, there are sparks of hope. In bursts of laughter and singing, the life of Sierra Leone is felt. The spirit of so many we have met with continues to astound me. Yesterday, our translator embodied the kind of love and spirit that gives me hope even in the face of unimaginable violence. Her dedication has changed the life of one of the former girl combatants we met with yesterday.

This former combatant was captured as a girl and fought for the RUF in the bush. She, too, became the “wife” of a rebel in order to be raped only by one man, rather than many. She had her first child in the bush—the child also of the commander. She learned how to wrap the cloth around her child so that she could fight and run at the same time. She had an unbelievable mind. Her personality was contagious and I found myself drawn to her spirit, her wit, her strength. Her childhood had also been ripped from her and yet she maintained a spark that gave life to all those around her. The woman translating for us, Monte, had drawn that out, given her hope, shown her compassion and stability. She is loving her back to life.

Monte, too, suffered in the war. When the RUF came to Freetown, they broke into her house. She was with 18 other women and saw all of them defiled, gang-raped and killed–some of the girls were as young as 9. She was spared only because her 3 year old son told the rebels that if his mother was lying, they could kill her. When the rebels could not accuse her of lying, they left. Monte’s eyes shine when she speaks and she moves through the world with grace and dignity. She is re-creating the world, re-newing the world, in the way she loves.

Tomorrow we leave for Kono. In almost all of the stories I have heard, Kono and Makeni are mentioned. Kono was devastated by the war because of the diamond mines—and continues to face a new kind of warfare. Carolyn Nordstrom calls this the “War of the Shadows”—the transnational businesses, the ways borders are blurred in global trade and corruption. There will be more stories there—of violence and degradation. And of hope and rejuvenation.

The moon shone above us tonight as Mohamed, our driver, brought us home. We all looked at the sky together as we drove. “In the U.S. you see that moon. In Guinea you see that moon. In Salone (Sierra Leone) you see that moon. Everywhere there is one moon,” Mohamed said. I hope the stories of the remarkable grace, dignity, and resilience of the Sierra Leoneans we have met will find their way across oceans and borders, where the same moon shines brightly overhead.